The Love of a Dread Wolf
by Venethiel
Summary: *takes place immediately after the main story* With the foci orb destroyed, he must do whatever it takes. The Ancient Elves must be freed... But Venethiel Lavellan was in love with him and was devastated by his sudden disappearance. She must find him, even if only to know why he left. Rated M for mature themes, language, occasional violence, and future sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

"_No matter what comes, I want you to know… what we had was real…"_

Those words echoed in her head as they reached the gates of Skyhold. The stone walls stood tall and impressive as a sign of security for those behind them, but today they felt oppressive to Venethiel. They seemed to tower over her more than usual as she walked on the drawbridge, and despite everyone's celebrations and congratulations, she felt smaller than ever. The cold winds were harsh against her exposed skin and she shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

When they passed into the courtyard, Venethiel's moss-green eyes darted over the processions that Josephine had taken such care in putting together, and she walked up the stairs to stand among her advisors and gaze over the crowd that had gathered in the courtyard before them. Venethiel Lavellan grasped her ceremonial sword and hoisted it into the air, silently commanding the others to follow suit. So many people cheered her name and the Inquisition's, and there were so many beaming and happy faces as the torch light reflected on the shining blades that were held up high by the soldiers. The mages all raised their staves and pointed them at the sky, sending hundreds of bright lights to join the stars as cries of victory were bellowed. The servants and the kitchen staff clapped and whooped, and under any other circumstance, the Inquisitor would have been overcome with joy. Soldiers hugged each other and clapped each other on the back. She smiled at them anyway, and although she tried to speak, the crowd drowned her out. She cleared her throat loudly, urging them to shush for a moment. Slowly, the noise died down, and all eyes were on her once more.

"Inquisition!" she addressed them, "Today we have defeated one of the greatest evils Thedas has ever seen. We defeated Corypheus and his dragon, even when no one believed we could!" The crowd shouted out in approval. "From this day forth, no one will be able to question the power we wield, and we will use this power for the greater good of all! Thedas shall be restored once again!" Swords and shields were banged together and there was many a "huzzah!" and a "hooray!"

Amidst the clamor and commotion that followed, Leliana quietly called her over, and Venethiel waved one last time to the crowd before she responded with utmost haste. What could possibly need her attention now?

"Inquisitor… my scouts say they have no sign of Solas. They will continue their search, but it's not likely that anything will turn up any time soon. I'm sorry…" she reported in her slight Orlesian accent, never breaking eye-contact with her.

Venethiel felt herself tear up slightly, the warmth in her eyes a stark contrast to the cold air. "He didn't even say goodbye…" She placed a hand on her forehead and partially hid her face behind her hands as she took a deep breath. Nobody needed to see her cry right now.

"The two of you were close." It wasn't as much of something to be confirmed as it was a statement. Nearly everyone knew of the fondness that had been expressed between the two of them, even if their displays of affection weren't exactly public. "I am so sorry, Inquisitor. If anything comes up, you will be the first to know. I promise."

"Thank you, Leliana," she replied as she quickly blinked back the tears.

The hooded redhead nodded and turned away to speak with Cullen, and Venethiel continued through the tall wooden doors into the great hall of Skyhold. She was greeted by a truly magnificent sight.

People from all corners of Thedas, or at least all of the corners Josephine could contact within such a short notice, gathered in the halls of Skyhold and enjoyed exquisite foods and fine drinks. Orlesian men and women arrived in their extravagant attire as they danced around in their royal silk ball gowns and perfectly tailored suits, their shining masquerade masks never leaving their faces. Ferelden nobles were mingling with the Inquisition, and you could hear their Mabari hounds barking from the stables outside. The tables were adorned with red silk tablecloths embroidered in gold thread, and it seemed as if the very food itself had been chosen just to match the vibrant colors that decorated the halls. The gilded chandeliers gave off a comforting warmth and light that only heightened their spirits even further. Venethiel addressed everyone who came her way with a polite gesture and responded to many a "Thank you," and for once she felt that her efforts were finally recognized. People were laughing and drinking and having a good time, and the atmosphere was happy and relaxed. She stopped for a second and looked around, trying to take it all in. Her heart swelled with pride as she gazed upon her companions; she would speak to them all individually later on. She would also definitely have to thank Josephine later, perhaps when her friend wasn't in such a frazzled mood. The poor woman was too busy fretting over whether or not the petite cakes were made correctly or whether or not the Empress' ambassadors had arrived on time. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a gruff voice behind her.

"You know, Inquisitor, I was thinking about writing another book. About the Inquisition. I think everyone deserves to know who saved their sorry asses from the demons."

Venethiel smiled softly as she turned to face the crossbow-wielding Dwarf that had addressed her.

"Varric… I doubt there will be anyone in Thedas who hasn't heard of what the Inquisition has done. Not if Josephine has anything to say about it."

Varric laughed and continued, "You're probably right. But still… you sure you don't want me to put it all on paper? It might be fun to look back on it later and read what happened." She could see the pleading twinkle in his eyes. That Dwarf had a way with persuading people.

"Fine, Varric. Just… don't exaggerate _everything_," she replied with a wink.

"No promises, Your Inquisitorialness." He faked a bow as he laughed and turned to walk away, but then he stopped, his face turning sober. "I'll leave out the part about Chuckles if you want."

She sighed. "No… as much as I don't want to remember it, I don't want to forget it even more. Thank you, Varric."

He smiled and placed his big, Dwarfy hand on her arm. "He'll turn up, Ven. I doubt he could bear to stay away from you forever…" Venethiel looked down for a moment. "Until then, you should just enjoy the party! Drink a bit, or a lot, because you deserve it!"

She grinned slightly as she watched him walk back towards Iron Bull, no doubt to share more of his stories about his encounters with the Qunari in Kirkwall. Would Solas come back, she wondered? They had so much together, so surely something serious must have come up for him to leave her but… why? She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that one of the servers walking around had to nearly shout at her to get her attention.

"Inquisitor? Inquisitor!" Venethiel jumped suddenly at the sound of the voice in front of her, and she looked to see a young Elven woman in front of her holding a tray of drinks. "Ser Tethras said you might want a drink... I-I didn't mean to startle you."

The poor girl looked frightened by Venethiel's reaction. "Sorry… yes. I would love a drink. Thank you… um?"

"L-Laina… my name is Laina, miss." Her brown eyes were hesitant to meet those of the Inquisitor.

"Thank you, Laina. There's no need to act formally around me. We are of the same people, after all," she said, attempting to reassure the girl.

"Y-yes, my lady. It's just… It's nice to see another Elf held in such high standing! I-I admire you, Inquisitor." With that, she placed a glass on the table next to Venethiel and quickly walked off.

Venethiel looked down at the silver-gilded glass before gently picking it up with a grace only the Elves can master. She swirled the deep red liquid and stared at it thoughtfully as she smelled it; it was a heavy, fruity fragrance with just a bit of spice. Taking a sip, she savored the feeling of it passing over her tongue and down her throat, loving the warmth that coursed through her body. Fine Antivan spiced wine, and probably one of the best if Josephine was responsible for its acquisition.

The wine was slowly soothing her and calming her spirits. With each sip, the emotions raging within her quelled more and more. With each sip, the draperies appeared more and more vibrant. With each sip, that strange Orlesian noble in the corner looked more and more appealing… until he removed his mask. Maybe not. With each sip, her footsteps grew heavier and heavier. She didn't remember much, but it wasn't long before she had found herself in Solas' study, and she was drunk off of her ass. Normally she would be more rambunctious as a drunk, but as of right now she was feeling pretty… ah, how did he put it? "Grim and fatalistic?" Yeah… that's it… She took another sip of wine. He gets it… he always gets it… he… he's…

Sudden re-realization dawned over the Inquisitor. He was gone. The only man she had ever fallen in love with was now gone and beyond her reach, and no one had been able to find him or track down any sign of him. Her heart began to ache until it felt as if she would die from the pain… Venethiel's eyes welled up with tears and she choked back a sob as they fell down her rosy cheeks and onto his papers with soft splats, slowly absorbing into the parchment. She bit her lip as the tears continued to fall, and her breathing became erratic. She was quietly sobbing now. No one needed to see her cry, she told herself. Not now. She lowered her head and stray strands of her dark brown hair had fallen out of her bun and were hanging in front of her face. Nothing had ever hurt her this much before, and she had faced certain death more than once. Anger and betrayal were welling up inside her, and her eyebrows furrowed. Banging her fist on the desk, she cried out.

"Damn it!" she sobbed. "Where are you, you bastard? Why… why couldn't you just say you never cared… why couldn't you just let me think you were some stupid jerk?" She was shaking. "I…. Solas…You… You bastard!"

She stood up suddenly, the sound of the chair legs scraping against the stone floors clawing at her pointed ears. Through blurry eyes she looked down at his desk one last time and balled her hands up into fists. It wasn't until another of her tears fell and she was able to see a little clearer that she caught sight of a single note that had been left there. Gently, she picked it up and brought it closer so she could read it. Scrawled upon it in Solas' perfect handwriting read,

"_Vhenan,_

_If you are reading this, then we have succeeded. Corypheus is dead, and I am long gone. Believe me when I say it is for the best. You are a brilliant light among all the darkness in this world, and you deserve better._

_With my deepest regrets,_

_Solas"_

Her face contorted into a pained grimace as she gripped the piece of parchment more tightly, threatening to crumple it in her delicate hands. She cried out and angrily swept everything off of his desk. A multitude of papers fluttered to the ground accompanied by the sound of stones and trinkets clattering on the hard floor. Venethiel was shaking more now, and she slowly fell back down into the chair.

"Solas… I…" she whispered to herself as she held her head between her hands. She used her thumb and traced her cheekbones where the Vallaslin once marked her face; it was as if the magic he used still lingered, tingling on her skin.

"_The Veil is thin here… Can you feel it? Tingling on your skin?"_

Tears streamed down her face now, and she was sure that her eye makeup was probably following suit. Crossing her arms on the table, she laid her head on them. She was content to just sit here and cry for a moment, far from the reaches of partygoers eager to hear her stories. She just needed this moment to herself. Venethiel had not realized just how much she needed this moment until now.

_BANG!_

The door was flung open and slammed against the wall behind it, and a very angry looking Josephine stepped into the room.

"Alright, who's in here? I hear you making all sorts of noise… I did not invite you to Skyhold just for you to start-oh. Inquisitor!" she stopped suddenly, smoothing out her hair and recomposing herself. "My apologies, I had no idea you were-"

"It's fine, Josephine," she managed to murmur quietly. She still kept her head low for fear of worrying her advisor, but Josephine had been playing the Game for far too long and knew how to read gestures and facial expressions.

Josephine looked at her with concern, and she walked over to the desk as her heels clacked against the ground. She placed her papers down on the table gently before resting a hand on Venethiel's shoulder. "Inquisitor… Venethiel… what's troubling you?" Before she could answer, Josephine noted the things that were scattered on the floor and that they were the source of the sounds she had heard just previously. "Ah… I see."

Venethiel looked up at her, her face blotchy and red. "I don't want to trouble you, Josephine. You have enough on your plate already to be worrying about me," she said with a slight slur.

Josephine playfully scoffed. "I'm not allowed to be worried about the Inquisitor, let alone one of my best friends? Especially when she's intoxicated?" She crouched down and reached up, pushing Venethiel's stray hairs out of her face. "We've all been through a lot, but no one has been through more than you. What Solas did to you was wrong, and as a diplomat I believe you should make it very clear that you want nothing to do with him."

The Inquisitor shuddered as the tears began to start up again at the suggestion. "But he _wasn't_ wrong, Josephine. He had his reasons… he always has," she replied woefully with a wave of her hand.

"Bullshit."

Venethiel was taken aback by her friend's uncharacteristically bold language. "S-Sorry?"

"I said it's bullshit, Inquisitor. I don't agree with what he did to you, whether he had his reasons or not. Nevertheless... " she paused for a moment, thinking hard. "I wouldn't deny you the opportunity to see him again, if it were to present itself. I know what he meant to you, and you're certainly not going to be a symbol to the people if you're like this all the time. Not a good one, anyway," Josephine jested.

She sighed in response. She knew that her friend was right, and that she needed to do something about Solas' disappearance or pull herself together and forget about him.

"Although I don't have agents like Leliana, I certainly have contacts. Surely someone will have seen or heard of him," she said in an attempt to comfort her.

"I… I think I just need to go to bed for now, Josephine." Venethiel stood up and wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve. "I'm thoroughly exhausted after today."

Josephine nodded. "As you wish, Inquisitor. I will inform the guests of your departure."

As Venethiel started to walk, she stumbled. She had forgotten how drunk she was, and it took a great deal of effort to keep herself from falling. Josephine quickly rushed beside her to steady her, and Venethiel heard her friend chuckle. "Or I could escort you to your chambers first. I don't think it would be smart for you to venture up those stairs alone."

The walk up the stairs seemed to take forever, and Venethiel's conscious was slipping by the minute. It was almost as if something unseen was pulling her, begging her just to go to sleep already, but she didn't want to fall asleep while Josephine guided her up the wooden steps. As soon as they reached the door to her room, Josephine smiled and said goodnight, leaving Venethiel alone. She opened the door and headed, clumsily, to her plush and inviting bed, almost immediately falling into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p><em>He shook with anger. How dare the world force her to do this? Flemeth… Mythal's body… was cold as stone in his hands. Her spirit was now a part of him. He glared up at the sky with his glowing, seemingly smoking eyes. He could feel her vengeance coursing through his blood as if it were his own. It was his duty to make the world see what time forgot. It was time to bring them back. <em>

_The spirits danced around him, recreating this memory. They shined vibrantly in all sorts of glowing colors, and for once he felt the urge to shake them away. Let him have this moment alone… Even if her spirit was with him, he had lost one of his dearest friends in physical form, and he was alone._

_That's what he was, he realized. He was so alone in this world, and it frightened him, but he knew this was how it had to be. He let the image of the stone-cold body slowly fade away as he tried to focus on something, anything else._

"_I must find a way… I must use this power… the Elven Gods must be free. I must fix my mistake."_

_Solas remained there, crouched down, as he grasped a handful of grass in his fist. He stared up at the broken and cracked Eluvian and frowned, the worry plain upon his face as his reflection stared back at him. He sighed._

_Solas sensed an odd presence and quickly stood, his back towards whatever it was that was spying on him. "I know you are out there. You do not need to hide. Please, show yourself." His voice was even-toned; he did not wish to frighten the presence. However, as soon as he spoke, the presence seemed to vanish. He turned around curiously, and his eyes narrowed._

* * *

><p>"Wh-what?" Venethiel gasped as she awoke suddenly and sat straight up in her bed. Her eyes were open wide and her mouth was left agape after what she just saw in her dream. Solas is… Fen'harel? She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, shuddering at the thought. She had seen everything from Flemeth addressing him to the revelation that it was just him remembering it in the Fade. Surely it was just some crazy dream that her mind had conjured thanks to an unhealthy mixture of alcohol and heartbreak. Just some crazy, realistic dream…<p>

The door to her room barged open and Venethiel pulled the covers up in an attempt to cover herself. "Inquisitor!" someone cried out as they came rushing within view. Ah, Venethiel thought, a servant that was no doubt posted to keep a close eye on her by Josephine. "Are you alright, Inquisitor!?"

Realizing she hadn't answered initially, Venethiel hurriedly replied, "I'm fine! I'm sorry to have disturbed you. It was simply a bad dream, nothing more."

The servant bowed in response and exited the room, leaving Venethiel to her thoughts. She let the covers fall as she pulled her legs in tighter. It was an odd thought… The Dalish always viewed the Dread Wolf as the trickster and the reason that they no longer had the original Elven Gods, and they always used him as a frightening symbol to scare away evil spirits. He was not viewed favorably, yet her dream suggested that she had fallen in love with the Wolf himself. Venethiel shook her head; it must have just been her mind or the spirits in the Fade translating the betrayal she felt into an image.

Taking in a deep breath, she sighed. By the looks of the sky outside her window, it was well into the night, and everyone had probably already retired to their chambers. She stretched her legs out and pulled the covers back over herself, trying to fight away the chill she was feeling. Resting her head on the pillow, she slowly closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep.

* * *

><p>It had been weeks since they had defeated Corypheus, and Venethiel was beginning to get into the routine of being sought after frequently by peasants and nobles alike. Josephine and Leliana were right when they told her that people hoped some sort of heroism would rub off onto them from her, and she was amused by the idea. Nevertheless, she enjoyed helping those in need and forcing judgement on those who deserved it. Perhaps one person should not be capable of wielding so much power, but the majority of the population as well as her companions seemed to agree with her decisions.<p>

Today she judged yet another of the Venatori cultists that they had captured after the fall of the "Elder One." She sat gracefully in her throne, and it was a magnificent sight to behold. She sat in the very maw of a dragon's skull; it was the perfect image of irony and of laughing in the face of danger. The red velvet seat was surrounded by the teeth of the glorious beast, and she was careful not to rest her arms too heavily on the long incisors that jutted out of the jaw as mock arm rests. The back of her throne stood tall behind her and made her an imposing figure as she crossed her legs impatiently.

Josephine cleared her throat and began, "Inquisitor, this man is yet another of the Venatori Leliana's spies found while investigating the Still Ruins. He is charged with crimes of murder, assault, and as I'm sure you've guessed, many other things."

The cultist kept his head low and his face was obscured by his hood. His shackles jangled around with a harsh noise as he spat on the ground, refusing to say anything. The two guards on either side of him had annoyed looks on their faces and one even rolled his eyes; they had obviously tired of his antics long before they brought him in here.

Venethiel leaned forward and propped her head on the back of her hand, eyeing him curiously. "You have nothing to say in your defense, cultist?" she said with a slight wave of her other hand.

His beady eyes glared up at her from under his hood. "If I did, would it make any difference, your 'worship'?" he retorted, practically spitting out the last part.

She sighed. "And here I thought maybe you would strike up a friendly conversation and I would invite you to dinner!" she sarcastically commented. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Josephine… what are my options?"

The Antivan woman looked down at her papers and flipped through them with a flick of her finger. "Many are asking for a public execution, but there are those who would rather he… 'rot away in jail', as they put it. As usual, the choice is yours, and we are open to suggestions."

"Death would be a gift! Allow me to join my master in the Fade… this world has no place for me."

Venethiel raised an eyebrow. "You know, this isn't the first time a Venatori has requested a beheading. So far, it hasn't come back to haunt me." She saw the brief look of fear that flashed over his eyes, and she smirked. No man as weak as this one could look death in the eye without trying to run away. The Venatori were all talk anymore, she had learned. "I hereby sentence you to death, which will occur tomorrow morning. I hope you have time to reconcile with the Gods before they take you."

The cultist began to grow frantic as he tried, to no avail, to maintain his composure. "D-Death is a welcome gift! I share no gods with you, you knife-eared filth!" He was pulling at his shackles as the guards moved to drag him away, muttering nonsense about the Elder One and red lyrium.

A fireball flew through the court and struck at the cultist's feet, causing him to let out a high pitched squeal and scramble away from the burning flames. The crowd that had gathered for the hearing gasped and backed away as well, frightened. Venethiel didn't flinch, but she looked over at where Dorian was standing with an unapologetic grin on his face. She made eye contact and shook her head, but she couldn't hide her own smile. With a tilt of her head, Dorian got the hint and extinguished the fire he had created.

"C-Control your mage, knife-ear!" the prisoner cried out as the guards regained their composure as well and continued to drag him out. He screamed and yelled the entire time and now his ramblings contained rantings about "stupid rogue mages and their stupid fire." When he was finally out of the room, everyone sighed in relief and turned to leave as well.

"Thank goodness you got him out of here; he was giving me a dreadful headache," Dorian complained. As the crowd dispersed and Venethiel stepped down from the throne, Dorian waltzed over to her and Josephine. Josephine looked slightly irritated at him.

Josephine smoothed out her golden dress and looked at him harshly. "That's the third runner that we've had to replace this week, and I'll be up all night writing apology letters to the nobles that attended today. Can't you control yourself, Dorian?"

"It's not my fault that these stuck-up cultists respond so humorously to having a little fire thrown their way," Dorian replied with mock innocence. "How can you expect me _not_ to throw a fireball or two?"

Venethiel laughed. "I'm not going to lie, Josephine. It _is_ funny watching them scream like that." Josephine shook her head in response, and Venethiel cleared her throat and said in a jokingly serious voice, "But Dorian, you couldn't possibly consider throwing more than one fireball knowing how Josie gets," she said with a wink. Dorian giggled like a little girl.

Josephine huffed and threw her arms up in defeat. "I swear, what am I going to do with the two of you?" Her accent was coming out thick in her frustration.

Dorian's perfectly curled mustache twitched as he grinned. "Josie, you know I didn't mean anyone _else_ any harm. He just needed to learn that you can't talk to the Inquisitor like that and not expect any repercussions!" He turned to Venethiel and quickly added, "You're not filth, sweetheart. He's just jealous."

She certainly didn't want to, but Josephine cracked a smile. "Okay… it _was_ a little humorous watching him squirm about. I don't want to admit it, but I got a strange satisfaction out of it."

Dorian playfully elbowed the advisor in the side. "Oh come on, Josie! You know it was funnier than tha-"

"But you," she poked Dorian in the chest with a finger, "are still in trouble!"

Dorian glanced over at Venethiel with a hopeful, worried expression, but she shook her head and laughed. "You got yourself into this one, Dorian."

"But Ven…!" he whined. Josephine shrugged her shoulders and she gave up, walking towards her office as her heels clacked against the floor. He covered one side of his mouth so Josephine wouldn't be able to hear and whispered, "_You don't know what her punishments are like!"_

"I hear you, Dorian!" Josephine called over her shoulder. "Keep pushing it, and you'll be the one writing all of those apology letters while I watch you!"

"Yeah she'd like that, wouldn't she?" he whispered to the Inquisitor. Venethiel gasped and looked at Dorian incredulously, trying not to laugh as she smacked him on the arm. "Ow!"

"Dorian!" She was unable to wipe the grin plastered on her face and hoped Josephine hadn't noticed the giggling fit her Tevinter friend was having next to her. "I swear, if you weren't gay…"

He raised an eyebrow. "What? I'd plough her into the Deep Roads?" he laughed.

"God, Dorian, no! I'd just really be questioning whether or not you were actually hitting on her," Venethiel replied with another smack to the arm. "You're the one who went there with it!"

"Ow! Oh come on, Ven, I was just-" another smack "-ow! You're worse than a sibling!"

"It's not my fault these stuck-up Tevinter mages respond so humorously to having a few smacks sent their way," she replied with a devilish grin.

Dorian playfully pushed her away, faking a look of hurt. "I'm offended, my dear Inquisitor! I'm only half as stuck-up as those other Tevinter mages you've been talking to. Cory's certainly no one to compare the rest of Tevinter to."

The two of them looked at each other with mock seriousness for a moment, eyebrows furrowing, but they both burst into laughter seconds later until tears were forming in Venethiel's eyes. Their giggling filled the halls and the two of them were nearly doubled over, not even sure what they were laughing at by this point. All they knew is that every time they looked at each other they just started laughing all over again, and it seemed as if they would never stop until Josephine stormed out of her office again holding back her own laughter.

"W-Would the two of you hush? You're making it hard to concentrate!" she managed to chide between giggling. She ran back into her office before she too burst into laughter, and left the two of them to finally start calming down.

Venethiel grinned widely at her mage friend. "Thank you, Dorian. I needed that."

He lifted his hands in the air. "Whatever would you do without me?"

"I'm sure I can think of something," she replied.

He chuckled. "Try all you want, but I doubt you will." He reached down and ruffled her hair, receiving a displeased grunt as she tried to fix it.

Josephine popped her head out the door again. "Dorian, I will drag you in here if I have to! I wasn't kidding about the apology letters."

"Into the Deep Roads it is, then!" Dorian whispered to the Inquisitor as he walked away, leaving her giggling madly.

"Do I want to know?" Josephine inquired.

Venethiel quickly shook her head and hid her face behind her hand as she continued to laugh. It was days like this that allowed her to feel normal again and forget the emotions raging through her. Maybe this was what she needed. Maybe she really did need to forget about Solas, at least for a time, and focus on the Inquisition and what was important. That's what he would have wanted her to do, right? Maybe she should listen to him for once.


	2. Chapter 2

Solas wandered through the Arbor Wilds, brushing aside the large leaves in his path as he trudged through the forest. Although he knew it would not be wise to enter the Temple of Mythal again, he was hopeful that there would be something else nearby. His feet crunched softly in the soil and leaves beneath him, and he inhaled the earthy smell that surrounded him. Exotic, colorful birds flew overhead through the tops of the trees and sang merrily. He looked up at them and shielded his eyes from the brightly shining sun. At least the nature was pleasant and largely undisturbed here now that Corypheus' forces were gone.

Despite the beauty of it all, he had yet to find anything but overgrown walls that were all that remained of an Ancient Elven civilization. He could not sense any magical energies nearby, nor any wards that would protect against those searching for such an artifact. He was frustrated, but less so with the beauty that surrounded him. Even as they crumbled, the stone walls stood tall and magnificent, boasting the architecture of a forgotten civilization that could never be recreated.

Solas brushed the ivy and collected dirt off of one of these walls, revealing a mosaic that depicted the Dread Wolf. He sighed as he uncovered more of the mosaic and saw that it was the Dread Wolf howling mournfully at an Eluvian. The next part of the mosaic depicted him falling into his uthenera, realising the extent of what he's done. He stood there in silence for a moment, the only sound being that of the dirt that sifted through his hands and to the ground beneath him like thousands of tiny pebbles.

He swallowed uncomfortably. "So there were those who knew…" he murmured to himself. It was reassuring, but it meant nothing to him now. The Dalish viewed him as the reason Arlathan fell, and while it was true, he had to do what he did. He wiped the sweat off of his brow and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Suddenly, a strange noise caught his attention and he remained there, still and silent. He heard footsteps noisily crunching on the leaves, and he felt a very odd presence from his intruder. Whether or not it was a friendly one, he decided to remain where he was and hope that they would pass along. He did not need any disturbances now. Warily, he glanced around at the trees in the hopes of identifying something hidden within the forest's cover. The footsteps seemed to be getting closer, and Solas slowly reached his hand to his back to grab his staff if he must. His light green-grey eyes detected movement in the leaves as a flock of birds flew up and scattered, and he jumped slightly in anticipation.

What he didn't expect was the woman's voice that called out behind him. "Did I hear someone out there? Hello?"

Solas swiftly turned on his feet to face the source of the voice, his staff lowered but at the ready. "Who's there? Show yourself!" he demanded. His stance widened as he prepared himself.

An Elven woman with shoulder length, auburn hair wearing Grey Warden armor stepped out from behind the trees. "I'm not here to cause any trouble. You can lower your staff, lethallin." He took note of her lithe form and the sharpened daggers that glinted in the sunlight on her back, defining her as a rogue. He eyed her carefully.

"How am I to know that I can trust you?" His grip on his staff tightened.

"Well, I usually just tell people that I'm the Hero of Ferelden and that's the end of it, but I doubt that's going to work on you," she said as she tilted her head towards him. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not cocky or anything. It just makes things a little easier sometimes when everyone knows who you are.

Solas raised an eyebrow. "Warden-Commander Mahariel? Alone in the Arbor Wilds?" In spite of himself, he relaxed a bit, but he still held his staff firmly as he frowned. "Forgive me if it's hard to believe that."

She just shook her head and sighed. "My name is Veyth, and I swear to Mythal if you don't put your staff away I will take it from you before you can even blink."

He laughed quietly at the irony; she had no idea what she had just said. "You think I'm going to respond well to a threat, Veyth?"

She smiled slightly. "I'm willing to take my chances. I did defeat an Archdemon, after all."

"And you lived to tell the tale. Curious, isn't it?" he pressed. He knew exactly how she had survived.

"You're the first to question it," she retorted as she crossed her arms.

He cocked his head to the side. "Truly? Have the Grey Wardens lost that much of their history to forget what happens when they kill an Archdemon?"

"I think more people care about the fact that it's dead. It's a shame, really. The story behind it is quite interesting."

Solas smirked. "A shame indeed." He replaced his staff on his back, standing up straight. "I am Solas. I am nothing more than a mere mage who is very interested in Ancient Elven ruins and the Fade. I am certainly no one to trouble or interrupt the Warden-Commander's plans." He bowed slightly, never taking his eyes off of her. He still didn't trust her fully, but he now recognized the strange presence he had been feeling earlier as the taint that coursed through her blood. Mahariel or no, she was indeed a Grey Warden.

She laughed. "Your very aura indicates otherwise, 'mere mage.'" she teased. "As did your response to this mosaic…" she walked towards it and ran her fingers delicately over the tiles. "Those who knew what? I'm very curious."

He looked back at the mosaic for a moment before he slowly turned his gaze to her. He bore a contemplative expression and frowned slightly, wondering what exactly it was that he should say. The soft sound of running water of a nearby stream was almost deafening in the silence that followed.

"You are Dalish, are you not?"

Veyth nodded slowly, automatically growing slightly defensive at the question. Too many people had judged her for it, including the Elves in the cities, and this man certainly didn't look Dalish. "Why do you ask?"

Solas arched his head back and looked up to the top of the mosaic. "Then you must be familiar with the tale of Fen'harel."

She looked at him curiously. "I… I know the stories that my clan passes down through the generations. But seeing this…" she gestured to the colorful tiles, "Fen'harel looks so sad, regretful even." She furrowed her eyebrows in frustration; it was against everything she had ever learned. Here the Dread Wolf was depicted not as a conniving, snickering trickster, but as a being full of remorse for locking the gods away.

Solas could understand her confusion, and he admired her willingness to question the beliefs long held by her people. So much like… no. He couldn't think that right now.

"What if Fen'harel saw that the gods were creating more harm than good? What if he thought the right thing to do at the time was to seal them away, never to harm their people again?" Solas asked as he turned to her and stared at her with his piercing eyes.

"And what if the absence of the gods caused the people to fall into chaos and war with each other? That's what I've been seeing much of around this temple… so many depictions or writings about the civil wars of the Ancient Elves…" She turned to Solas. "Whether or not he thought it was right, it led to the fall of our people."

"Don't you think he noticed?" There was something about her, he finally admitted to himself, that reminded him of Venethiel. "Look at this part of the mosaic," he told her as he pointed to the second piece. "Fen'harel realized what he had done, but he was too exhausted from sealing them away to reverse it. He resolved to go into uthenera until he had regained the strength to bring them back."

She eyed him suspiciously. "That's a lot to determine from one picture."

"I've studied these things for years, Commander. I have also journeyed into the farthest reaches of the Fade, and I have seen things that you could only dream of. Literally." He made eye contact with her again. "You would be surprised what the spirits tell you when you're willing to listen."

"I've dealt with many demons in my lifetime, but very rarely have I dealt with a spirit. The only time I ever did… well, I hear he possessed an old friend of mine and destroyed the Chantry in Kirkwall. A spirit of Justice corrupted into one of Vengeance."

Solas looked away and shook his head. "That's certainly not a good first impression, I will admit. But I have found that spirits can offer company where there is none."

Veyth watched him intently for a moment. "You're so lonely, though. I can see it in your eyes… and yet..."

He looked down in response and cut her off. "Sometimes it is better that way. You're alone in your quest to cure the Calling, are you not?" She responded to him with a perplexed look before he continued, "I read the note you sent the Inquisitor. I commend you for your efforts, but do you expect to find anything?"

"You're searching for information on the Ancient Elves, something that was thought to have left no trace. Yet here we are," she said as she fanned her arms out, gesturing to the structures that stood around them. "But you didn't let me finish. You are lonely, but you chose to be this way. I can tell. You had a life with the Inquisition, but you threw it away for something… to keep them out of something, perhaps?"

He chuckled softly. "You believe you're figuring me out?"

"You've given me enough clues to go off of, I believe," she replied. "You speak with a knowledge of many ages, and I am not referring to the collective knowledge of the spirits you have befriended. There is something ancient about you, Solas."

"More ancient than you will ever know…" he muttered under his breath.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly at the contact. "Perhaps… you could use some company for a time?" she suggested with a tilt of her head. "We've both been alone for a while; I'm sure you and I could both benefit from it."

He backed away from her incredulously, throwing his hands out in front of him. "I-I'm sorry if I gave off the wrong intent, but my heart belongs to another… I couldn't-"

"Oh shush, you old man, that's not what I meant! I meant exactly what I said. Just interacting with other people. Plus, Alistair would kill me." She laughed and shook her head at him. "I'm sorry, but you should have seen the look on your face!"

He smiled at her. "You are a rather interesting person, Mahariel." He took a deep breath. "Perhaps it would be nice to have some real company for a change."

She grinned. "I have a camp not far from here," she said as she gestured towards the dense forests behind them. She began to walk in that direction but then stopped and looked back, slightly impatient. "What? It's not going to be sunny for much longer."

Looking up to the sky, he saw the sun slowly making its descent and realized she was right. He chuckled and followed her, shaking his head.

They passed through the foliage, discussing Elven culture as Solas corrected the elements of Dalish history that had been skewed over the ages. Veyth listened intently, and she simply nodded in understanding whenever he would correct her. Solas was oddly comforted by her presence.

"So…" Veyth began as they were walking, the setting sun giving her auburn hair a reddish glow, "Tell me about you. You said you were in the Inquisition, so you obviously weren't alone this whole time. How did that happen?"

Solas sighed heavily as he pushed a branch out of his way and ducked under it, it's feathery edges tickling his cheek. "I knew more about the Fade then anyone else there, so I knew they needed my help. I was there from the very beginning after the Breach opened up." He chuckled. "Cassandra wanted to brand me as an apostate and kill me on the spot, but I had surrendered my staff. Leliana convinced her that I meant no harm. That's when they put me in charge of…" he trailed off, frowning.

Veyth turned around and looked at him curiously. "In charge of what?"

"I was in charge of inspecting the Anchor, the mark that appeared on the Inquisitor's hand." He flexed his own hand and gazed down at his palm, reminiscing. He looked back towards her. "I was also in charge of making sure it didn't kill her. I wasn't there when she awoke, but when she and Cassandra came upon the first Fade Rift, I was." He chuckled. "She had no idea what she was doing. I ran to her and grabbed her hand, pointing the Anchor at the Rift. As I had predicted, power emanated from the Anchor and closed the Rift. The flow of demons subsided." He looked down at the ground for a moment before he continued. "She… looked at me, and I just felt…" he sighed.

"Like the world would never be the same again," she finished. "I remember when I first met Alistair, so I know exactly what you mean." Veyth smiled fondly.

Solas shook his head. "Can we please stop talking about this?" He pursed his lips for a moment as his brow furrowed. "It's… I... "

Veyth smiled softly. "I understand." The pain on his face was clear; he felt that he had to leave the Inquisition, to leave his love, but he certainly had a hard time doing so. "You mentioned Leliana… how is she?"

"Ah, of course. I forget that Leliana was one of your companions." He stepped over a root protruding from the ground, nearly tripping over it. "She is… formidable. There is no information that is out of her or her spies' reach. She is an invaluable asset to the Inquisition." He pondered for a moment. "I wonder if that will continue now that she is to be the new Divine."

"Divine!?" Veyth nearly shrieked. "My Leliana is to be the next Divine?" Her mouth hung agape.

Solas chuckled. "Yes, with no small help from the Inquisitor, they were convinced to make Leliana the new Divine. The Circle of Magi has already been disbanded, I've heard."

"Wow… I… I'm happy for her."

They came upon a clearing just outside the edge of the woods that harbored a small little camp including a tent, the coals of a once burning campfire, and a few bags of colorful ingredients and flasks that rested upon a pile of firewood. Veyth grabbed a few pieces of wood and placed them in her makeshift fire pit, and as soon as she stepped back, Solas pulled out his staff and sent a small spark of fire to ignite it. The sun had begun to set and the orange hues reflected on the forest, giving it a fiery glow that resembled the flames forming at their feet. Veyth sat herself down on the gravelly soil beneath them, and Solas did the same. She crossed one of her legs over the other and rested her arm atop her knee, watching the fire lick towards the sky as the smoke began to rise. She shifted a little uncomfortably in her armor as she repositioned herself, and Solas counted himself lucky to be wearing his simple cloth tunic as he comfortably crossed his legs.

Some time had passed, and Veyth shifted again and sighed. The sun had almost completely set, and now the dancing light of the fire reflected off of their faces and the area around them. The nearby stream trickled quietly and the fire crackled as silence hung over the two of them. The evening summer breeze blew coolly on their skin. Solas had lied down and placed his arms behind his head, and now he looked up at the stars. He noted the constellation of Fenrir, its stars shining brightly, and he smiled.

"What is it?" Veyth asked, breaking the silence.

Solas looked up at her and blinked as his eyes readjusted to the campfire's light. Sitting up straight, he replied, "'Tis the constellation, Fenrir. It's an oddity among the stars, as the wolf has no place in Tevinter lore."

Veyth sat up on her knees. "But didn't the Tevinters steal many of the constellations from those of the Ancient Elves?" she inquired.

He nodded. "That's why many believe that it was originally meant to represent-"

"Fen'harel," Veyth finished. "Or perhaps the ancient legend of the Neromenian people," she quickly added.

"And yet you prefer that it would be Fen'harel, part of your own people's history, would you not?" he asked her.

She bit her lip before answering. "Well… The Neromenian tale doesn't have the most credibility. It would only make sense that it would more than likely be Fen'harel, would it not?"

"Legends are often bent and twisted throughout the years. I would know," Solas replied, a slight hint of sadness in his voice.

Silence hung over them once more as they left each other to their own thoughts. Veyth looked over at Solas and began to study his face carefully. He looked so young… of course, he was an elf, but still. He didn't look any older than thirty or forty. So what was it about him that was so ancient, and what was it about him that seemed to call to her? She couldn't wrap her head around it.

Solas noticed her staring and cocked his head to the side. "Commander?"

"Solas… who are you? ...What are you?" she asked, the concern evident upon her face.

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I know you're more than… you. You're more than you appear to be." She nervously ran a hand through her hair.

Solas sighed and closed his eyes. "...I am… whether or not you should know exactly what is the true question."

She shook her head, confused. "I… I have an idea, but you couldn't possibly…"

His grey eyes bored into her own, his gaze unwavering. "Try me."

Veyth sighed and held her head between her hands, shaking slightly at her revelation. "I never expected to share my camp with you, Fen'harel… How ironic that I led the wolf into my den."

"I assure you that I mean you no harm." Solas looked down, sure that whatever trust they had built in those few hours had just been washed away and that his last statement meant nothing. "Some might say I am the harborer of his spirit; nothing more. Just as Flemeth was the harborer of Mythal."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Flemeth? Was? And Mythal, of all the gods?" She threw her hands up in disbelief.

"They were not gods," Solas corrected her. "They were normal Elves of great power whose very natures were distorted by legend. Immortal? Yes. Gods? I would not think so."

"But Flemeth was… and you are still…" she took a deep breath.

"I am. I awoke from uthenera just a few years ago," he confirmed.

"You're… you're one of the Ancient Elves?" She stared into his eyes. "That's why you left, isn't it? You were afraid of what happened if they knew? If she knew?"

"I will admit that is part of it. Your reaction is testament to what would have happened if I had stayed-"

SLAP!

Solas looked at her incredulously as his cheek began to grow warm and sting painfully. He winced and rubbed the sore area, glaring at her. "What was that for!?"

Veyth stood up and walked down towards the creek, her boots crunching in the rocky ground. "You assume too much." Her hands balled up into fists. "You all do… You assume you know what's best for the world and don't give a shit about what other people have to say about it." She turned towards him angrily and spat, "I don't care if you're Fen'harel. I wouldn't care if you were the damn Maker!" She huffed, frustrated. "Your 'duty' binds you more than your own affections. You are _blinded_ by it."

Solas stood now with a pained look on his face. "I am only doing what is best for her. Did you let Alistair know before you left?" he asked in an exasperated tone, trying to remain calm in spite of his ever increasing urge to yell back at her.

She turned on him, pressing a finger hard into his chest as her eyes glowed angrily in the firelight. "Alistair and I…" she huffed angrily. "You don't know me," she growled. "Don't pretend to act like you do. I'm just doing what is best for the…" her mouth hung open and her eyes widened as she trailed off, realizing how hypocritical she had just been, and removed her hand, her gaze lowering. "I… Fen'harel, I'm…" She let her body relax and slumped her shoulders, a look of defeat upon her face.

"We all have our duties," Solas said as he placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes, those duties tear us from those we love." His eyes narrowed sadly.

Veyth let out a frustrated, exasperated sigh. "When did duty become more important than those we care about?"

"It becomes important when it threatens their lives," he sighed, maintaining a stoic expression. "Or when it's for the greater good of the people."

"When did we get to decide when it's for the greater good?" she pressed, looking up at him. Her hands balled up into fists again as she frowned. "When I was building an army to defeat the Blight in Ferelden, it was obvious. If we didn't stop it, no one else would." She shook her head. "I've made difficult decisions as the Warden-Commander, and people have died because of them. But if I hadn't made those decisions…" she paused. "I always found it easier when Alistair was with me. I felt like he gave me the strength I needed to get through every day. I didn't question if it was for the greater good, because he believed in me no matter what."

His eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips, unable to find an answer. He let his hand slide from her shoulder and walked down to the running water, watching his reflection in the moonlight grow sadder with each passing minute as he thought about what he had left behind. Her beautiful face came to mind, and he pictured looking into her moss green eyes as he ran his hands through her silky brown hair. It was so beautiful and flowing when she released it from her normal bun, and he could imagine the way she would close her eyes softly and contently at his touch. Closing his eyes as well, he struggled to shake the image from his mind. Solas sighed deeply as the time passed with silence between them. Some time passed before either of them spoke again.

"I admit that I am surprised," he began.

Veyth gave him a curious glance before stepping forward to stand beside him. "About what?"

"You know who… what I am."

She nodded. "Fen'harel, the god of rebellion." She turned to him and gave him a serious look. "I do not judge others based on stories, Dread Wolf. I judge others based on what they have done. You have given me no reason to distrust you… even if you are an unfamiliar and ancient being."

"I… I see. Thank you," Solas replied gratefully, nodding at her. "I also thank you for your company, despite the altercations. People are so much more dynamic than spirits." He smiled sadly.

_"You have a wonderful and marvelous spirit. In another world…"_

_"Why not this one?"_

Solas shook the memories from his conscience. "Veyth," he addressed her. "Do you think…" he sighed.

"Do I think what, Fen'harel?"

"Do you think she would forgive me?" he asked, his head hanging low.

"The mighty trickster god is asking me for girl advice?" she snickered. Veyth stared down at her reflection in the water, pondering his question. "If I were her, I would take some convincing. But if you were true in your intentions…" she paused before looking back up at him. "I believe you will have to find that out for yourself."

* * *

><p>Venethiel's party traveled into the Free Marches after discovering the location of a Fade Rift that was larger than usual. It needed immediate assistance, the messenger had said. Demons had been pouring into the area and had affected some of the nearby towns, so they wasted no time in traveling to the area.<p>

The sun was shining down on them harshly, and Dorian pushed his black hair back and wiped his forehead. "Inquisitor, how much longer do we have to go to find this thing?"

"I was wondering the same thing, Ven. We've been traveling for a while now… Bianca's getting anxious," Varric added. "I know the Free Marches well enough, but I don't recognize the cave this guy was talking about."

Venethiel huffed. "We'll get there when we get there, alright? This is the third time you guys have asked me that!" She stomped off, constantly referring back to the map she was holding in her hands. She couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, but she was uneasy about something and it put her on edge. When she got on edge, she was quick to snap.

"Well," Dorian exclaimed dramatically. "Who's got your knickers in a wad?"

She sighed. "It's nothing, alright? Just quit asking me if we're there yet!" She mumbled under her breath, "You're the one who's got your 'knickers' in a wad…"

Dorian and Varric looked at each other and shrugged as they kept walking.

For a while, they traveled in silence. The sun continued to beat down on them mercilessly as they neared the Wounded Coast. Seagulls flew overhead and squawked incessantly. Venethiel was growing more and more irritated; they hadn't been running into any enemies lately, and that concerned her more than it relieved her. She bent down to pick yet another stalk of elfroot and placed it gently into her bag with the rest of the herbs she had gathered.

Suddenly, she heard a twig crack nearby and her head snapped up in response. Varric had already grabbed Bianca from his back and he aimed it towards the sound. Dorian whipped out his staff and frowned intensely. Cassandra drew her sword from its sheath and held her shield out in a defensive stance. Venethiel slowly stood up and went into stealth mode, drawing her daggers carefully. She urged the others to stay behind for a moment until she gave a signal before creeping towards the source of the sound. Her eyes narrowed as she searched for something and her ears pricked up upon hearing the distinct grumbling of a rage demon accompanied by several other lesser demons. She felt her hand tingle in response to the Fade Rift that was close by, and she gripped her daggers firmly in her hands. Smashing a frost flask onto herself, she grappled towards the demons and lashed out at them. Their blood sprayed hot onto her skin as she sliced through the fiery hide of the rage demon and she winced at the heat. Her enemies froze when they got too close to her thanks to the frost flask, and she was able to smash through them repeatedly as her party members joined in the fray. Varric fired from afar with his precious Bianca and her now poisoned bolts as Dorian sent blasts of lightning towards their foes. Venethiel somersaulted away from one of the demons as Cassandra pulled said demon towards her and kicked it down with her boot. Cassandra plunged her sword into the demon's torso with a savage cry. The blood spurted from the wound into her face and she pulled the blade out with a sickening noise as she swung it towards one of the demons that popped up behind her, but it burst into flames as Dorian cast his spell and incinerated it. She nodded her approval and looked over at Venethiel who was dashing behind the rage demon and striking it hard. She dashed out of the way each time it swiped at her with its fiery claws, grinning widely as she danced around it. The more she danced, however, the more the demon caught on to her pattern. It wasn't long before it turned at just the right moment and swiped across her stomach, leaving long and deep gashes as she cried out in pain and blood spurted forth. The rage demon laughed menacingly and grew larger as Venethiel stumbled backwards, holding her stomach.

"Dorian! A little ice would be great right about now!" she called back as she tried to jump backwards and away as the demon chased after her.

Dorian was twirling his staff as he sent fiery bolts at the other demons, turning his head momentarily when she addressed him. "I'm a little busy, princess! Use your frost flasks!"

She narrowly dodged another swipe before she had been backed up against a wall, rolling to the side as it continued to lash out at her. She grunted from her exertions. "You don't think I didn't consider that first? I'm out!"

Dorian cringed as the demons closed in on him, and he was thankful that Varric was thinning out their numbers before he became completely overwhelmed. "Cassandra! Ven's in a bit of trouble!"

Cassandra was blocking the blows of one of the demons, and she summoned all her effort to push it back with her shield as she swung her sword into its abdomen. She glanced over at Venethiel who was still barely dodging the rage demon's blows, and she tried to cut her path through the enemies towards the Inquisitor. It seemed as if the flow of demons wouldn't stop, however, and she was beginning to get pushed back as more demons headed her way. "Inquisitor! Hold on!" she cried out.

Venethiel was having a harder and harder time dodging the demon's blows as the bleeding intensified, and she didn't have a moment to spare to drink a potion. She tried to slice at it but to no avail as her daggers couldn't seem to reach their target. Her heel caught on a rock and she tripped backwards, her back slamming into the ground as the wind was knocked out of her. She grimaced painfully as more blood leaked out of her abdomen and now trickled out of the corner of her mouth. Her vision was growing blurry as she looked up and tried once more to roll out of the way, but she found herself trapped as her tunic caught on one of the rocks. The demon moved to bring his fiery fury down upon her and she closed her eyes, preparing herself for the impending impact.

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra called out. Suddenly, Venethiel's eyes opened wide as she felt a strong pulse of magical energy that pushed her back and seemed to stun all of the demons, even killing some of them, and she saw her opportunity. Venethiel scrambled to her feet and quickly ingested a potion as she leaped up and drove her daggers deep into the rage demon's head, causing it to cry out in pain as it slowly melted into the earth. With the newfound energy the potion gave her, she was able to dance around the battlefield once more and slash through the remaining demons. In the midst of the fray, she noticed a silver-haired elf swinging a large sword and cutting down a large number of enemies. They made eye contact for a fleeting moment, and she could see pure rage in his eyes. Whether he was friend or foe was something they would discover after all the demons were dead, she decided.

One by one, the demons fell and Venethiel rushed towards the Rift to close it for good. Her party followed as they defeated the last of their adversaries and Venethiel reached her hands towards the glowing green tear in the Veil, preparing herself. Just as the magic began to flow, however, she felt a hand grip her wrist firmly as Lyrium pulsed through the mark and into the Rift. Venethiel cried out in pain at this new sensation and looked over to see the elf from before glaring at her, and she noticed his skin was covered in markings that glowed a bright blue.

His deep voice echoed in her ears. "You left Hawke in the Fade. You're going to bring her back," he growled.

Venethiel's eyes widened as she realized what he was doing, and she tried to pull her hand away. His grip on her wrist remained firm, however, and she was without escape. Varric had caught up now and rushed towards them.

"What are you doing!? You've seen the Fade; you know what it's like! Don't do this!" Varric shouted.

The elf snapped his head and glared back at him, but his eyes grew sad. "I will not leave her trapped, Varric."

Venethiel could feel the magic taking effect, and she continued to struggle against the elf's strong grip. Varric shook his head and tried to reach the two of them. "No! Fen-!"

The last word was lost as everything went black, and they were soon transported into the Fade.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I apologize for the long wait between chapters! As a couple of you already know, I recently upgraded to the PS4 and I've been replaying Venethiel's story on there for the sake of future DLCs... got a little distracted with that. But here it is, and I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter and bear with me with some of the stranger, more improvised elements. You'll see what I mean.**

* * *

><p>"Gah!" Venethiel cried out as she slammed against the rocky ground of the Fade. The coarse ground scraped against her skin and she winced in pain. She squinted as she slowly stood, taking in her surroundings. Looking over to her right, she saw Varric standing sideways on one of the tall columns before he jumped down to stand at the same parallel as her. He was glaring at the silver-haired elf who was also just now coming to his senses, and he shook his head. Cassandra helped Dorian up since he was struggling to maintain his composure; the Fade was a scary thing and this was the first time he had physically entered. He was a bit shaken to say the least. The sky, or whatever it was, was filled with swirling green clouds that thundered menacingly as if they were distraught at the intruders' presence. They seemed to be twisting and turning towards a central point which Venethiel assumed to be the Black City.<p>

"Alright, Fenris, what the hell did you go and do that for?" Varric said angrily.

"Fenris? You're…" Venethiel exclaimed while gesturing to the elf. "You're the one Hawke mentioned…" Her expression faltered and she grew worried.

Fenris stormed over to her and wrapped his hand around her throat, pushing her against the column behind her, and he began fuming as his tattoos started to glow brightly again. "Varric told me. You left her in the Fade!" he spat.

Venethiel coughed and scrambled to break free of his grip, her face eerily illuminated by the blue glow. Just as before, however, he proved to be too strong and maintained a firm grasp of her thin neck. "F-Fenris… please…" she pleaded as her face turned blue. Fenris glared at her through the locks of silver hair that fell in front of his menacing green eyes.

"Fenris! Stop it!" Varric demanded.

Fenris' head whipped around to face the dwarf and he grimaced. "She left my Lyveisa in the Fade! My Hawke…" he cried as his voice faltered. He regained his composure and turned back to Venethiel. "I could snap your neck like a twig. I should… but…" he paused. Looking down for a moment, he frowned. "You will help me find her," he stated as he looked back into her eyes. "...or I _will_ kill you." He released his grip on her and she fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for air as she held her throat.

Cassandra rushed to the Inquisitor's side, glaring up at Fenris as she crouched down. "You had best be careful, _elf._" she growled. "If you dare lay a finger on the Inquisitor again, I won't hesitate to cut you down. I don't care if you were Hawke's lover."

The two of them sat there and glared at each other for a long moment before Dorian interrupted, clearing his throat. "Well, if I may… Should we really be strangling each other when our main priority should be getting out of here? This place is… unsettling." He shivered uneasily. "I thought it would be fascinating at first, but I'm really beginning to rethink that statement!"

"Silence, _mage_," Fenris spat.

Dorian threw his hands up in mock surrender and scoffed as he took a step back. "Well, you must be fun at parties."

Varric shook his head. "He detests magic of all kinds, Dorian. I wouldn't push your luck."

"Great. So now he's trapped us in the Fade _and_ he hates magic? Wonderful…" Dorian commented sarcastically.

Venethiel stood up and brushed herself off, and she glared at Fenris. "You had best have some damn idea of how to find her, you glowing bastard. Just because I've been in the Fade before does not mean I know how to find her."

The broody elf snarled at her, but his expression soon softened as he looked down at the ground. "I… I do not know how to find her."

Venethiel gave a frustrated sigh and decided to walk off in some random direction, and her party members looked at her curiously. She turned back towards them and gestured for them to follow. "We're not going to find her standing around now, are we?" She huffed and kept walking; this had certainly turned into quite the day! She had had no intentions of ever returning to the Fade physically, especially without Solas. He was the expert on the Fade, after all. Her heart sank as she continued, and she understood how Fenris felt. She disagreed with his methods, but she knew that she too would do whatever it took if she knew Solas was in danger… If he were still with them…

Fenris followed in closely behind her, taking in his surroundings with a look of disgust. His tunic and pants clung tightly to his taut and muscular body, and his gauntlets and armor were rather spiky in appearance. His hands almost looked like claws because of this, and Venethiel shivered. Hawke was a lucky woman, she decided. A _very_ lucky woman. She remembered Hawke saying that he would give his life for her and that that's why she left, and it wrenched at her heart to see that very man in front of her now, despite him trying to kill her just minutes earlier. He tried to hide it, but she could see how vulnerable he was.

The very air around them was cold and complacent, and the party grew more uneasy the more time they spent in it. Whispers from the dark echoed their names and threatened to lure them closer, but Venethiel knew better and brought them back to reality. That is, if you could call it all reality. Fenris drew his sword and kept it drawn as they walked on, holding it at his hip with both hands. Venethiel's eyes darted this way and that at the slightest noise; this did not seem to be any demon's domain like the Nightmare from her previous encounters into the physical Fade, but she did not wish to tempt luck. She had no proper way of knowing, anyhow.

"So, Broody, you never did respond to my letter," Varric said, breaking the silence.

Fenris sighed as he looked down at his feet. "There was nothing I could say. The thought of Hawke…" he trailed off as he bit his lip. "I apologize, Varric. I was not the only one who was close to her. I should have remembered that."

Varric reached up and patted him on the shoulder gently. "She's strong, but…" Varric sighed. "Don't be surprised if we find her-"

"Don't say it. Please," he begged. "I couldn't bear the thought of living without her."

The dwarf raised his eyebrows in worry. "I know, Fenris… I know."

Venethiel frowned as she listened to their conversation. Her boots scraped against the rocks as she continued to walk through the Fade. Dorian kept glancing around warily with his staff drawn, bringing up the back of the group as he grew more paranoid of things sneaking up behind them. Cassandra was also growing uneasy, and she made sure not to get too far from the rest of the group. The cliffs on either side of them rose up and seemed to arch around them, threatening to close in on them. Rocks floated in the air strangely, defying the physics of the normal world.

They continued to walk like this, keeping their eyes peeled for any hazards as well as any sign of Hawke, but most of them knew that the search was futile. It wasn't long before they all began to grow weary of their travels. Dorian had begun to use his staff as a walking stick of sorts, barely keeping himself upright. The Fade stretched like a desert before them with empty expanses of pure nothingness spread out underneath the floating spires that littered the skies.

"Ven, we've been walking for _hours_. Do you even know where we're going? Where we've been?" Dorian called out from the back of the group.

Venethiel shook her head as her feet splashed in a puddle of water… or whatever it was. "I have no idea, Dorian, but it's better than sitting around doing nothing."

Dorian frowned at her. "And why are we helping this… glowy man here? He trapped us in here in the first place, not to mention that he tried to kill you as soon as we got here. That's not exactly the best first impression."

"Quiet, mage," Fenris growled. "You're lucky I haven't tried to kill _you_. I know you're from Tevinter."

"Explanation? Please?" Dorian asked as he looked at the rest of them, notably at Varric. Fenris was seething with anger, and Dorian shrugged at him. "Hate me all you want, but I'd at least like to know why. Is it the blood magic? The Imperial Chantry?" he taunted.

"Broody here used to be a slave to a magister. Danarius, I believe his name was," Varric explained. "He pretty much hates everything about Tevinter."

"Lovely…" Dorian replied with a dramatic sigh. "The man was a bastard though, I'll give you that."

"You knew Danarius?" Fenris inquired suspiciously.

"My father did. He's also a magister, so he knew all of the other high and mighty magisters," Dorian scoffed. "A right prick, he was. Can't say I'm sad to hear he's dead."

Fenris replied with a contemplative "Hm…" He relaxed a little. "Perhaps you aren't as bad as you seem after all." Varric laughed at him, and Fenris looked at him, confused. "What's so funny?"

"You're okay with a mage? Mark the calendars! Fenris is agreeing with a mage!" Varric chuckled.

Fenris sighed and shook his head. "Don't make a fuss of it… plus, you forget Bethany."

Varric raised his eyebrow before nodding. "You're right… can't believe I forgot about Hawke's little sister. I hope she's alright."

"She can take care of herself, unlike most mages," Fenris added as he looked pointedly at Dorian.

"Excuse me?" Dorian butted in. "Most mages?"

"Don't push it, Sparkler," Varric warned.

"Can you all please stop arguing about mages and Tevinter? I've heard enough already!" Cassandra finally commented. "We need to focus on finding Hawke."

Venethiel and Fenris nodded in agreement, and Dorian and Varric looked off to the side as Dorian nonchalantly began to whistle.

After quite some time, the group came upon a small cave that glittered a bright blue from the lyrium deposits within. They stood at the entrance for a moment before Venethiel stepped forward. "I'm going to go check this out to make sure there aren't any demons. I think it's about time we find a place to settle in for the night… or whatever it is right now," she said as she looked up at the unchanging and swirling green sky above them. "You four stay out here, just to make sure nothing follows me." Most of them nodded.

"I don't think so. I'm coming with you into that cave," Fenris stated with a frown.

"Seriously?" Venethiel protested. "You don't trust me to check for demons for my own friends?"

Fenris sighed, obviously annoyed as he walked into the cave. "No. I want to talk with you," he whispered to her. "_Alone_," he hissed as he ushered her into the cave.

She sighed and complied with his wishes, walking close to him. Drops of water fell and the sound of it echoed off of the caves walls as they entered, and the only sources of light they had were the faint glow of the lyrium deposits and Fenris' tattoos that seemed to constantly glow to an extent in the Fade. Venethiel found herself looking at them and studying them closely as they walked, tracing the patterns up his arms and back with her eyes.

"They are made of lyrium," Fenris stated, interrupting her thoughts. Venethiel was jolted out of her daze as she looked back up to his face.

"S-sorry. I've just never seen anything like them before. They… fascinate me somehow," she admitted.

"Danarius thought the same thing," he replied. "I 'won' them in a tournament of sorts… I thought I was simply winning the freedom of my family, but apparently Danarius had other plans for me. He had the lyrium burned into my skin, and I became his personal bodyguard. A weapon, of sorts."

Venethiel looked at him sadly. "That… that must have been immensely painful."

Fenris gave a deep, throaty chuckle. "So painful, in fact, that I lost my memory for it. For a while, at least." He inhaled deeply. "But this is not what I wanted to talk about. I…" he choked on his words a bit, "I actually wanted to apologize. I was certain you would not go physically into the Fade willingly."

"I wouldn't have," she agreed, a more stern expression forming on her face. "But we're here now, aren't we?" She sighed, kicking a rock with her boot. "Fenris, I'm not going to pretend that I'm anywhere near content to being forced into doing this."

Fenris cringed slightly. "I know, and that's-"

"But I do know that if it were Solas, I would do the same," she interrupted him, staring directly into his green eyes.

Fenris looked surprised for a moment, but then he furrowed his brows and nodded at her as he began to understand the sentiment behind her words. He stared into the empty expanse of the cave, squinting his eyes as he looked for any signs of movement.

Venethiel was studying one of the pools of water that had gathered on the rocky floor. She had read in the texts she had found that perhaps it wasn't truly water, but something else entirely like the memories of the people in the Fade taking a liquid form. She crouched down and tried to scoop some up in her hand, and it acted like water as it pooled in her palms. Spreading her fingers slightly, she watched as the liquid slipped through them and back into the puddle it came from. She didn't trust it enough to drink it, even if it looked and acted like regular water. Venethiel stood back up and wiped her hands off on her pants, walking up to one of the lyrium deposits. It glowed radiantly as she reached out to touch it. It seemed to be singing to her, but not in the way that red lyrium did. It was as if there were spirits trapped inside that had hidden knowledge. It seemed to whisper to her, drawing her closer, and her mark flashed brightly in response. She yelped and jumped back.

"What was that!?" Fenris yelled as he quickly turned around. "Inquisitor?" he growled.

She was breathing heavily as she stepped away from it, her mark stinging on her hand. "I… I don't know. I…" she stammered. When she closed her eyes, she saw visions flashing through her mind; images danced across the backs of her eyelids that were not of her doing. She saw a flash of silvery-white hair running. The glint of metal as a dagger sliced through the air. A cry of strange, otherworldly pain as a pale, spidery leg was dismembered and hit the floor.

Venethiel's eyes snapped open and she was firmly grasping her wrist as the mark pulsed under her skin. "Hawke…" she gasped. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to see more, but the visions had faded.

Fenris' ears pricked up and he grabbed her by the shoulders. "Hawke!? You… you saw Hawke?" he asked as he shook her.

Her eyes opened and Venetheil reached up to press her fingers against her head as she cleared her mind. "I… I saw flashes. Memories. I think it was Hawke… she was fighting that thing." Her eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed as she tried to recall as much of it as she could. Fenris guided her down so that she could sit on the ground, a pained yet curious look on his face.

Cassandra came running in, followed by Dorian and Varric. "Inquisitor! We heard yelling; are you alright?" Cassandra exclaimed as she rushed to Venethiel's side. She glared at Fenris and pushed him away roughly. "Did you hurt her, elf?" she snarled.

Fenris tensed up as he struggled to regain his footing, but Venethiel intervened. "He didn't do anything, Cassandra," she grumbled. "I… I touched the lyrium, and it reacted."

"She says she saw Hawke," Fenris stated, his hands forming into fists.

Varric raised his eyebrows. "You did what, now?" he asked her incredulously. "How? Where is she?"

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, letting out an exhausted sigh. "I just saw her fighting. It looked like she was winning, but I can't be sure."

Dorian knelt down beside her, next to Cassandra. He wiped a stray piece of hair out of her face. "Where was she? The sooner we find her, the better."

"I said I don't know, Dorian!" She sighed, exhausted. She briefly glanced over at the lyrium deposits, and she noticed that they were still singing to her. She gently shook Cassandra and Dorian off of her as she stood up, and she walked over to the lyrium that glowed brightly in the darkness.

"I don't know if that's the best idea, Inquisitor," Cassandra cautioned.

Varric shook his head and readjusted Bianca in his grip. "If it helps us learn where Hawke is, I'm not questioning it."

"Even if it brings her pain?" Cassandra argued.

Venethiel looked back at Cassandra. "It's fine, Cassandra. I want to find Hawke." Her steps echoed as she continued towards the deposits. She knelt down to the particular growth of lyrium that was singing to her, and she reached her hand out, taking in a deep breath as she braced for the impact. Barely a finger touched the crystal when it exploded with a bright blue blast and she was violently thrown backwards against the wall of the cave, landing with a thud as she limply collapsed onto the ground. Her mark on her hand flickered and pulsed a brilliant green as she lie unconscious, and they all rushed over towards her.

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra cried out. She gently turned Venethiel over on her back before she quickly ripped off her gauntlet and placed two fingers upon Venethiel's neck. Cassandra sighed in relief to find that she still had a pulse and was still alive. "Thank the Maker…" she breathed. "She's still alive, but she's unconscious." The others sighed in relief as well, but the concern was evident upon Varric's face.

"And here I thought red lyrium was the stuff to watch out for…" he commented. "Since when does regular lyrium do something like that?"

"It could have something to do with being in the Fade," Cassandra observed. "We had best set up camp away from these lyrium deposits. Fenris, check to see if there is a space farther in we could use."

Fenris nodded and turned away, walking towards the back of the cave. Dorian paced the area impatiently, sending the Inquisitor worried looks now and again. Varric sat down on a larger rock and proceeded to polish Bianca with a rag he pulled out of his coat. He needed to do something, anything to pass the time. Cassandra had since pulled the Inquisitor up so that her head was resting in Cassandra's lap, and she furrowed her eyebrows as she stared down at the unconscious woman. She hated not knowing what to do; it made her feel powerless and helpless.

A thick, heavy silence fell upon the three of them as they waited for Fenris to return, and Dorian had knelt down and tried his best to heal the cuts and bruises that had formed on Venethiel's alabaster skin. He wasn't good at healing magic at all, but he could at least give it a try, Cassandra had said to him. He let his hand hover over her as the magic flowed through his fingertips and into the wounds, lighting up the cavern with it's gentle blue glow. His focus, along with the magic, was cut off when they finally heard footsteps coming towards them from farther into the cave. They all looked up expectantly when Fenris finally came into view, wearing his usual stoic expression.

"There's an area farther in that is free of lyrium, Seeker," Fenris confirmed. "I... will carry her, if you like," he hesitantly offered, gesturing towards Venethiel.

Cassandra shook her head and gently lifted the limp form of the Inquisitor, carrying her in between her arms. "There's no need for that. I can carry her myself."

Fenris shrugged and he walked back from where he came, leading the party further into the darkness of the cave. Once they reached the spot he had mentioned, they all settled down to try to get some rest. They were all too weary to set up a watch cycle; if something came after them, they would be able to hear it coming anyway.

* * *

><p>Venethiel wandered the Fade, calling Hawke's name. It was hopeless, she knew, but she had to do something. She ran and ran, and she never stopped running, never grew tired. She must find Hawke, for Fenris' sake. For Varric's sake.<p>

Her footsteps pounded heavily against the ground as she ran, but it never seemed like she got any further. The floating, rocky spires overhead were the only things that seemed to be moving past her, but they were moving faster and faster. The thundering green sky swirled above her like a vortex. It made Venethiel dizzy just looking up at it all, so she shook her head and kept running.

Suddenly, the skies opened up and it began to pour as large drops of water hammered down upon Venethiel's head. She grimaced at the unwelcome cold that the raindrops brought, but she kept running. It seemed that this was all she could do anymore. The sound of the rain was deafening as it fell on the ground, and the solid ground couldn't contain it as it quickly began to pool at her feet. Her boots splashed in the water as she kept running, running, all the way to a destination she wasn't sure even existed. The droplets clinked and clanked off of her armor and soaked through her tunic and her underclothing. She shivered at the feeling, but there was no cover to be found as she kept running.

It was up to her ankles. She was having a hard time keeping herself from slipping as the ground beneath her became covered in water. She shook her head as water trickled its way into her eyes, blurring her vision.

It was up to her knees. She was wading through it now, but no way in hell was she about to stop. She had gotten so far already, she told herself. The rain was unrelenting and she sputtered as it got into her mouth as she continued to call Hawke's name. She was sure no one would be able to hear her over the pounding of the rain, but she was determined to keep on going. How was she not tired, she wondered to herself? She turned her head quickly, scanning the area with her vibrant green eyes. Where was everyone else?

It was up to her waist. She could practically swim in it now. Was it… was it getting warmer? She shook the random thought from her mind and kept going as quickly as she could. She thought she could see a hill in the distance; something that had escaped the water's grasp for now. The rain hammered upon her, unyielding, but she was already soaked through. It didn't matter anymore. Her loose hairs were plastered to her skin and she was constantly wiping water from her brow.

It was up to her chest. She was swimming now. The water was growing hotter, almost uncomfortably so, but she had to keep going. She still wasn't tired, and she no longer questioned any of it. All she knew was that she had to get up to that hill. She didn't know why, but she knew that she had to. It was slowly growing closer now, and she thought she could hear fighting in the distance. How could she hear anything over the sound of the rain? How could she hear anything over the sound of her splashing as she swam?

It was thicker now. It smelled metallic. It was hot. Venethiel coughed and sputtered when it entered her mouth, and she was taken aback and disgusted when she tasted the blood. She saw it now; an expanse of brilliant crimson lay before her, lapping against the hill she was trying so desperately to reach. It steamed and was unbearable, and she grimaced at the way it splashed in her face every time she submerged one of her arms. She couldn't call Hawke's name anymore; she was already struggling to keep her head out of the water enough to breathe. The metallic, pungent scent stung in her nostrils with each breath, but she kept going. The island was growing nearer. She could see it now; a gigantic, spider-like monster fighting a losing battle against something that she could not yet see.

The closer she got, the more she was able to see of this disgusting, enormous arachnid. Her eyes widened when she recognized it as the Nightmare demon's pet, and she swam faster as she tried to reach the island. If she found the demon's pet, it's likely that she would find Hawke fighting it. Her strokes grew more desperate and her kicks fiercer as she struggled to make her way towards them. A thundering noise began to sound behind her, threatening to burst her eardrums with how deafening it was becoming. She turned around for a moment to see a wave of blood growing, growing, heading right for her. She gasped and swam faster, but she wasn't quick enough to outrun it and it swept her up like she was nothing. Venethiel tumbled underneath the blood water, struggling to get herself upright. The blood water was forcing its way into her nostrils and mouth, flooding her lungs as she kicked at the water. She couldn't even tell which was was up at this point, but she couldn't breathe. The wave began to bang her up against rocks she didn't even know were there initially, and she fought with the blood water as she struggled to remain calm.

Suddenly, a current threw her upward and onto the hill she had been trying so desperately to reach. She choked and hung her head as she tried to cough up the blood in her lungs. She looked up to see the gigantic spider just a few feet away from her, blood spraying from its wounds like rain. That was exactly what it was like, she realized. The blood rain was coming from this demonic creature's wounds, and it finally fell as the rain stilled. It fell with a deafening, disturbing screech as its pincers clicked together rapidly before coming to a standstill as its beady eyes lost their light. The clouds above parted to reveal the bright light contained behind it, and it shined down on the small hill and upon the heaving frame of Lyveisa Hawke, who was covered in just as much blood as Venethiel.

Venethiel's eyes widened and she forced herself to stand, stumbling towards Hawke. "Hawke! Hawke!" she cried out. "I finally found you!"

Hawke turned towards her then, a look of sorrow upon her face. She closed her bright turquoise eyes and fell to her knees on the verge of total collapse. Venethiel ran towards her then, holding her up by her shoulders. Venethiel's eyebrows raised in worry as she studied Hawke's expression; she had come too far for Hawke to fall now.

Hawke slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the Inquisitor, her turquoise orbs sparkling with tears as drops of blood trickled down her face. "Please… find me," she begged.

Venethiel was confused and shook the poor girl. "I have found you. You're right here!" Venethiel nearly shouted. "Everything is going to be alright. Fenris is here… he's the reason we came to get you."

She smiled faintly. "Of course he is…" Her head lolled to one side. "This is a dream, Inquisitor… It's different in the physical Fade…" she explained as her pure white hair stuck to her face with the bright red blood. "It's like… the Darkspawn taint… that connects Grey Wardens to the Darkspawn… the Fade…" she faltered for a moment, struggling to stay conscious.

"I don't understand… how is this like the Darkspawn taint? What in the name of the Maker are you talking about?" Venethiel asked frantically.

"Find me…" Hawke urged. "You… you'll know the way. Hurry… I don't have much time…" she blinked slowly. "The Dream… she's coming for me. I'm too weak to fight her… Please, Inquisitor… Find me… beware the Dream…"

Hawke grew limp in Venethiel's arms as she lost consciousness, and she was left with more questions than answers. She stared at Hawke's body and it began to fade, slipping between her fingertips as it was drawn away by some unknown force.

"_My, my…_" a strange voice echoed loudly in Venethiel's ears. "_You really want to find her, don't you? So much that you would dream of it? I can show you the way…_" the voice said in a rather alluring manner. "_All you have to do is wake up…_"

* * *

><p>Venethiel bolted upright from where she had been lying, and cringed as she felt a horrible pain in her neck and back. She massaged it with her hand before she realized that the mark on her palm was glowing and pulsing continuously. Venethiel stared at it, trying to figure out why it was still pulsing as she studied it. She then remembered the lyrium veins and what had happened before she passed out. When she moved her hand to the side, she noticed that it stopped pulsing. She tilted her head to the side in confusion before she turned it back to where she had been holding it up originally. It pulsed again, even brighter when she turned further in that direction. Perhaps this is what Hawke meant when she said Venethiel would know the way. It pulsed brightest when she directed it towards the cave's exit.<p>

Looking up, she saw Fenris standing watch as the rest of them slept. Despite his initial weariness, he found himself unable to sleep now. His tattoos glowed gently, almost pleasantly on his tan skin. It was probably best if he were the first to know.

"Fenris," she whispered as though not to startle him.

Her attempt failed, however, and the elf jumped at the sound and gripped the handle of his sword before he saw who it was. His angry snarl turned into a look of shock as he saw her standing before them, and his eyebrows raised. "You are… awake?" he asked.

"Yes, and I know how to find Hawke."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For the sake of the story, I developed a theory that dreaming in the Fade works in a similar manner to the dreams and connections one has if one is a Grey Warden. The taint originated from the Fade, after all. So, the idea is that one can be connected to the other people in the Fade physically through dreaming in the same way that Grey Wardens are connected to the Darkspawn... this is one of those things that I ask you to please bear with me on. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I am SO sorry it took so long! As the author of the story, I obviously already know what is going to happen next... and I'm getting impatient waiting to reach this one part. However, I didn't want to rush the story either. So, as a result, (plus school just started back up again, ugh) I had to take frequent breaks to make sure I didn't get too impatient with the story... not to mention that I edited the crap out of this chapter over and over again... but anyways... I really hope you guys find this chapter to be worth the wait!**

* * *

><p>Their small group meandered about the Fade, using Venethiel's glowing mark as a guide. It acted as a compass of sorts, but not in terms of north or south so much as which way to continue in the immediate area. Fenris never left her side nor did he let the Anchor out of his sight; he knew she was his only hope of finding his beloved and would protect this woman to the best of his abilities.<p>

Her mark illuminated her face with a harsh green glow, reflecting brightly off of her veridium colored eyes. She squinted them in the harsh light as she stared down at it for a moment, clarifying that they were heading in the right direction, before she turned to look back for a brief second at her companions. They all appeared weary, the result of a rough night's sleep weighing heavily on their shoulders as they trudged on. She was sure, however, that her companions would be ready and willing to battle if it were forced upon them.

Cassandra tried to hide her exhaustion as her brow creased and she studied the area around them. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease in this strange place, quiet as it may have seemed. The Seeker was also concerned about the mention of this strange, unknown entity that Venethiel had said Hawke warned her about. She had given no more details than to beware this strange thing, and Cassandra couldn't help but be frightened by the ideas that crept into her mind at this uncertainty. She had to know, and soon, before her imagination drove her mad.

"Inquisitor…" Cassandra began, unease causing her voice to waver ever so slightly.

Venethiel stopped and looked back at her. "What is it, Cassandra? Is something wrong?"

Cassandra looked off to the side. "I…" She looked back up at the Inquisitor. "You are sure we know nothing more of this Dream?"

Venethiel shook her head, the worry clear upon her fair features. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words hesitated and wouldn't come for a moment, leaving her lips parted in silence. Sighing, she turned around and kept walking. When her Seeker worried, it shook her own resolve.

"Inquisitor?" Cassandra asked again.

The elf scratched the back of her head and laced her fingers through the loose hairs that had fallen from her bun. "I'm sorry, but I know nothing more, Cassandra." She did not wish to antagonize the Seeker with the things that could be, and kept her own fears to herself.

"Isn't it obvious?" Dorian butted in. "We're in the Fade! What do you always beware in the Fade?" He looked around at the rest of them, his expression expectant and hoping for a reply. When he got none, he raised his eyebrows and scoffed, shaking his head. "Demons! This 'Dream' person, or whatever, is obviously a demon."

"You act as if that is something to be happy about," Fenris grumbled, cringing as he scraped one of his toes yet again on the coarse rocks they walked upon.

Dorian shrugged. "'Know thy enemy,' they always say."

"But we don't know our enemy. Even if this Dream is a demon, they are not all the same," Cassandra argued with a sharp wave of her hand.

Varric, who had been largely silent this whole time, looked down at the ground as they walked. "We do know one thing, Seeker."

"Oh really? And what is that?" she replied, somewhat scornfully as she turned to face him and threw her hands up.

Varric exhaled deeply. "Hawke is afraid of it…" he said as he gave Cassandra a worried look.

"... and Hawke is no stranger to fighting demons," Fenris added. "We've fought demons countless times, and she never once showed fear. She hardly ever does."

Venethiel closed her eyes for a moment, taking this information in and realizing with great worry what Varric and Fenris were hinting at. "So if Hawke is afraid of it, we should be afraid as well…" she muttered under her breath. She steeled herself and built up her courage for the sake of those following her; they needed their leader to remain confident. "Well," she began with a nod of her head. "We'll just have to show this Dream who's boss, won't we?"

Varric smiled one of his half smiles at her. "That's the plan, isn't it?"

Cassandra sighed and shook her head in distress, her eyes closed as her eyebrows angled up sharply with a mixture of anger and worry. "I hope this is all over soon."

"You and me both, Seeker," Varric replied with a clap of his hand on her armored shoulder.

With a slightly renewed vigor, the team continued as they walked through canyons of rocky spires and high reaching cliffs of some unknown mineral. Lyrium veins spiraled through the ground and along the cliff walls as crystals jutted out towards them, glowing a bright, misty blue as they seemed to reach out towards the Fade's intruders. Fenris' tattoos continued to shine against his skin, much to his dismay as the constant reminder of his past illuminated his body and reflected off of both Venethiel and Cassandra's well-polished armors in contrast to the green glow that reflected from the skies above.

All was silent for a long while and relatively still with the exception of the wisps of magical energy that seemed to float about in the air. Venethiel watched them as they danced playfully and flew up towards the floating spires in the sky. She watched them curiously for a moment, enraptured by their movements as she walked. Their movements calmed her, giving her momentary release from the stress she was under. This distraction was short lived, however, when a sudden, sultry voice broke the silence and reverberated around the canyon, scaring the wisps as they quickly flew away.

"_How quaint…_" a female voice commented, echoing on the rocky walls. "_The heroes have all banded together to search for the damsel in distress._"

The Seeker immediately tensed. "Who are you!? Where are you!?" Cassandra instinctively shouted out as her eyes widened at the sound of the voice, frantically turning around and looking everywhere. It reminded her far too much of the way the Nightmare would speak to them.

"_Well, well… aren't you feisty? So much pent up frustration…_" the voice remarked. "_You desire freedom from this world, do you not?_" the fiendish, feminine voice chuckled. "_You need but ask, mortal, and I shall grant you your wish. For I am nothing if not generous._" Cassandra scoffed in response, her frown deepening.

"A desire demon…" Fenris growled. He raised his voice, addressing the demonic presence. "You are the one they call 'Dream', are you not?"

The creature hummed appreciatively. "_I see your beautiful elven friend managed to share that information with you… the woman I have with me seemed intent on revealing my name to her._"

Fenris' hands balled up into fists and he fumed with anger. "You have Hawke…?"

"_That is what she calls herself, it seems,_" she purred.

His eyes blazed with a green fury that rivaled the fiery glow of the Anchor as he glared towards the sky. "Give. Her. Back," he demanded. "I will kill you if I have to."

The demon sighed. "_Hawke this… Hawke that. Why desire her when the primal desire you have for the woman in front of you exists so strongly?_" Fenris stood with his mouth agape and looked over at Venethiel for a brief moment, who had turned to look back at him incredulously.

"I have no such thoughts. Hawke has my heart and my…" he cringed, "fantasies." Despite the circumstances, Dorian couldn't keep the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. "You will not tempt me."

"_Fine… have it your way. I could have made her yours, though,_" the demon taunted, and Fenris could have sworn he felt what was akin to a ghostly hand brushing his cheek. He pulled away, swatting at the air as the demon laughed at his reaction.

Venethiel's face contorted in disgust. "I would not allow myself to be persuaded by some… demon," she retorted, spitting out the last word. She gestured to the rest of them. "Nor will any of my companions be pawns in your games."

"_Not even if I brought your lover back?_" the demon pressed.

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes glancing to the side as she considered it for but a second, but she remained strong. "I will not make any deals with a demon." She narrowed her eyes sadly. "You cannot give me what I want."

Dorian's moustache twitched as he considered her words for a moment and he tilted his head to the side. "Well, Inquisitor… I've heard demons of desire can be quite fun sometimes..."

"Shut it, Tevinter!" Cassandra interrupted him.

"I didn't actually mean it, Cassandra!" Dorian retorted. His words were cut short, however, when a horde of shades and wraiths fell upon them, causing the group to scrabble and grab their weapons to defend themselves. The five of them stood in a circle, back to back, as the wave of demons fell upon them. Dorian huffed in annoyance. "'Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter', right Seeker?" Dorian chuckled as he readied his staff and began drawing forth electrical energy from its tip. It crackled as he waved his hand methodically in the air, and the glow illuminated his tan skin erratically.

Cassandra smiled slightly and nodded at him, her white teeth flashing in the light. "'Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just!'" she cried out as she lunged and swung her sword, bringing it down on the head of a shade that cried out in pain as it was split in two. Blood gushed forth from the gash, coating her sword and splattering hot against her face and armor. She pulled her sword out and bashed it with her shield for good measure as it melted into the ground of the Fade, wiping the blood from her brow with the sleeve of her armor.

Venethiel twisted her wrists and spun her daggers in her hands before she lashed forward, getting behind one of her enemies in the blink of an eye and slicing it several times in the back. Her daggers seemed to sing as the sound of metal scraping bone and more metal hummed pleasantly in Venethiel's ears with its metallic melody. Time seemed to slow around her with every slash and she grinned wolfishly, her eyes glinting a dangerous green as her daggers continued to make purchase; this battle did not seem to have the endless waves of demons like the Rift did. Fenris was close by, taking out multiple demons with a single swing of his large sword as he snarled. The demons' bodies collapse together with a resounding thud and the crunch of bone, a sickening yet satisfying sound in the midst of battle.

The rapid fire and click of Varric's trigger could be heard as he shot one demon after another with Bianca's crossbow bolts, focused and fulfilled when each one hit its mark. Within a matter of minutes, Dorian set the last of the demons aflame and he brought his hand to cover his face as the heat grew in intensity and the light of the fire grew too bright. With a wave of his staff, the flames were extinguished with a sudden _whoosh_, and the charred ashes of the demon fell like grains of sand to the now smoky ground. They regrouped and stood back to back once more, their boots scuffling against the dirt and rocks as they scrambled back and their eyes scoured the area for the demon in hiding.

"_My, my, but you are a loud bunch…_" the demon complained. "_It gives a girl a headache._" Suddenly, all of their minds were intruded upon as an image of Hawke appeared before them. "_How would _you _feel if I killed one of your friends, hm?_" The image faded before any of them could say anything, and the demon cackled at their enraged faces.

Fenris' resolve was slipping. "Bring her back. Now," he demanded once more. His brow furrowed and his frown deepened. "Show yourself, _demon_, and bring her back!" he spat. His breathing was heavy as he tightened his grip on his sword and held it menacingly in front of him, baring his teeth in a silent growl. Those green orbs of his flashed with a rage Venethiel had never seen in anyone before, and it almost frightened her to see him this way. His ferocity reminded her of that of a very angry wolf.

The demon remained silent for a moment, but the presence was still there as if she were thinking about her decision. Fenris refused to relax his posture the entire time, and Venethiel noticed that Varric had also grabbed Bianca tighter and had a bolt loaded, crossbow at the ready. The silence was agonizingly long, and she was sure that the demon did this on purpose and reveled in every moment of it. Suddenly, the presence began to fade and Fenris grew distraught, chasing after where the presence seemed to go as he sliced through the air in a panic, yelling as he swung.

"_No… I don't feel like it,_" the demon finally murmured as the presence faded away. "_I guess you'll just have to come get her yourself._"

Fenris was heaving now, his shoulders falling up and down as he grasped the hilt of his sword tightly and rested the tip of its blade on the ground. He turned back to Venethiel with what she could describe as nothing other than puppy eyes, his very face pleading to her before he even spoke.

"Please, Inquisitor. Please help me get her back." He stared back down at the ground, his silver hair hanging in front of his face as beads of sweat ran down his forehead. He narrowed his eyes as his dark brows creased with worry. "I will do anything. I will give myself to your Inquisition, if that is what you wish," he told her.

Venethiel walked over to him, followed by Varric. She looked at him with a pitying gaze and placed a hand on his shoulder as he had done for her before, silently urging him to look up at her. When he did, she could see the sadness reflected in his emerald eyes that he tried so hard to hide. She forced herself to smile slightly at him in reassurance. "I do not wish anything in return, Fenris. I only wish to ensure both your safety as well as Hawke's."

Varric stood on the other side of him. "Don't worry, Broody. We're gonna find Hawke." He gave the Inquisitor a quick, meaningful glance as he spoke these words, and she nodded.

"Sorry, but has everyone somehow forgotten that this glowy… elf boy is the reason we're here in the first place?" Dorian argued, leaning around Fenris to look at Venethiel. "Personally, Ven, I think you should at least take him up on his offer. You know, for compensation," he reasoned with a shrug as he casually brushed off the shoulder of his bloody tunic.

Venethiel sighed and shook her head. She understood the mage's reasoning, but she couldn't bring herself to agree with him. "Dorian," she sighed. "It's my fault Hawke is here in the first place. If anyone owes compensation, it's me." She looked back at him and saw he had an eyebrow raised and his moustache twitched as his lip curled in confusion. "It was the best decision at the time… I already knew the Grey Wardens couldn't stay. I couldn't leave them without a leader," she explained. Fenris recoiled at her words and flashed her and ugly look, but she continued. "If I could have saved them both, don't you think I would have?"

"Look, we're here now. We're going to find Hawke, and then you _will_ have saved both of them," Varric reminded both of the elves. He looked around at all of them. "And this demon? We're gonna kick its ass."

The corner of Venethiel's mouth curved up in a half smile at Varric's words, and she patted Fenris' shoulder one more time before she stood up straight again, urging the elf to do the same. Her chainmail clinked as she adjusted her posture and her footwraps scraped against the solid ground.

"I say it's time we paid this Dream a visit," the Inquisitor declared with that half smile still upon her face.

* * *

><p>A storm raged in the sky as the clouds flew rapidly and thunder crackled and boomed in the distance. The wind howled through the sparsely leafed trees whose trunks groaned under the pressure and their branches waved around wildly. Most of the lightning was farther away, but a stray bolt struck down with a bright flash of light and an instantaneous boom as it split one of the swaying trees straight down the middle, charring the broken wood until it was a midnight black. The pouring rain immediately extinguished any lingering embers from the storm's attack, and smoke rose slowly from it's mark. A pair of steel blue eyes watched this happen from the safe enclosure of a nearby cave, glowing in the darkness like the eyes of a wolf. The wind howled even louder in the cave, amplified by the acoustics of the small space this figure occupied and the echoes from farther within. Those eyes squinted as a mist of cold rain blew inside, and Solas raised his hand to shield his face from the brutality of the elements that forced their way inside.<p>

He was somewhere between Crestwood and Haven, debating whether or not he should make his way back to Skyhold. He wasn't sure that it was the best decision he could make, as the people needed him, but for once he felt as if he did not have to do this alone. There was no certainty that Venethiel would accept his true identity, but even if she didn't, at least it would provide a closure for her that would allow her to move on from him. If she did accept him, perhaps she would help him. It was a long shot, he knew, but he had to have hope. No one had ever given him as much hope as she had. No matter how much he fought it, he could not deny that he had never loved someone the way he loved her. If anything, he knew that he had to see her one last time. His eyes trailed downward toward the ground as he pondered his situation, and he leaned on his forearm against the cold rock.

The heavens were unrelenting, and Solas was forced to withdraw further into the cave as rain battered at its entrance and flooded the ground, making it impossible to start a fire to keep warm. He had no problem conjuring his own flame, but the constant mist that entered the cave would not allow his flames to flicker for long.

"When will this rain cease?" he wondered aloud. He already hated how long this journey was taking him and had hoped to act without further delay; he wished to get back to his searching as soon as possible. The normally patient, stoic mage now found himself distraught and anxious as he waited for the clouds to empty. With a huff, he resigned to sit down on the cold stone beneath him and crossed his legs. With little more than a thought, Solas sent a spark towards the small tinders he had gathered and watched intently as the first flames danced and grew before his eyes. The cave was lit with a soft, orange hue that flickered brightly and then dimly as the fire did. It's flames licked up at the air and entranced the elf, and he felt his pulse slow as he began to relax. He took a deep breath in, savoring the smell of the smoke that rose from the wooden embers and flooded his nostrils, before releasing it with an audible breath that caused the flames to curl away from the air. Closing his eyes, Solas felt himself drifting towards the Fade as he let himself slip away from the physical world, his body gently falling to the ground with a soft thud.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a wispy but fairly accurate representation of the cave he had fallen asleep in. He watched as the wisps began to solidify, some of them forming the shapes of people who had found themselves sheltering in the same spot as he. As his eyes adjusted to the hazy filter of the Fade, he realized that he was standing amongst a group of Dalish elves that were sheltering themselves from a storm just as he was. They seemed to dash around him frantically, all of them taking part in some task that was for the betterment of the clan. Their voices spoke, some soft and gentle as an elder would speak to a child, and some harsh as a younger adult barked out orders to their clan members. Solas was amused by it all; the Dalish were so much more impatient than their ancient ancestors they fought so hard to emulate.

Halla snorted and belled as the Halla keeper herded them farther back into the cave, and the sound echoed loudly off of the walls along with the sounds of the commotion the elves made as they rushed about, securing the aravels and ensuring that they had enough supplies.

"_Mamae! Mamae!_" a small child, no older than four or five, cried out. Solas was slightly taken aback by this, as he had not expected to hear such a casual term spoken in his language. The Dalish he had encountered clung to fragments of a language long forgotten. "_Ma nuvenin mamae! Mamae!_" the child sobbed as it stared out into the wilderness beyond the cave. Solas watched sadly as the child cried, and he continued to observe as one of the elder members of the clan stepped forward.

"_What is wrong, da'len?_" the woman inquired, wrinkles creasing around her mouth as she frowned.

"Ah… so it was just a phrase," Solas muttered to himself. He should have known that there would be those Dalish who would be fascinated by the fantasy of the language and seek to use it whenever they could, especially as an imaginative child.

"_Mamae… she said she would be right behind us. Where is mamae, Keeper?_" the child asked pitifully. It wrenched Solas' heart to watch this poor child; he had seen enough things like this to know the likely outcome of this child's mother.

The older woman let out a sigh as she crouched down next to the child, gently wrapping an arm around the poor thing's shoulders. "_You're a strong young girl, da'len. Do you know where you got that strength?_"

The little girl sniffed and wiped her nose with her wrist, looking up tentatively at the elder through her misty eyes. "_No…_"

"_You inherited that strong spirit from your mother. I am sure she will be back in the morning,_" the Keeper reassured her. "_Now come, da'len. You should come further in before you catch a cold from all of this rain._" She ushered the child inside with a gentle yet firm push of her hand on the girl's back, watching as the crying child made her way towards the rest of the clan. Her forehead creased with worry once the girl was out of sight and looked out beyond the cave just as the little girl had. "_Dareth shiral, Adahleth. Please return safely…_" she paused for a moment, leaning on the side of the cave just as Solas had done previously. "_Your little Venethiel needs you._"

Solas' eyes widened and he had to steady himself. If anything, he was certainly not expecting this of all things. That small child he had seen… It couldn't have been her. "Venethiel…" he whispered, allowing the name to linger on his lips as he took in this revelation. It all made sense, he realized. She had always shown a fascination with anything connected to the Elvhen, but more so than the average Dalish elf. He could easily imagine her pouring over texts and constantly asking her elders in order to learn the language and anything else she could; she was the inquisitive sort.

Suddenly, time seemed to move forward rapidly through the next couple of days. When it finally came to a halt and resumed to a normal speed, Solas' eyes fell upon the body of a beautiful elven woman who lie peacefully in a bed of embrium and other flowers as the rest of the clan gathered around her. Her pallid, lifeless complexion only mildly detracted from the beauty that he was certain had decorated her features before her last breath, and he could see the features that clearly identified her as Venethiel's mother. He closed his eyes for but a moment and sighed, sadness filling his heart. When he opened them once more, he looked around the solemn gathering and noticed the absence of one elf in particular.

Solas was drawn towards the far end of the cave where he knew he would find her, quietly sitting in the corner atop a rocky shelf in the wall as she sobbed. She had brought her knees up to her chest and had wrapped her arms around her legs, and her body shook softly from both the cold and from her sobbing. The Dread Wolf felt his own eyes grow warm and wet as tears pooled and threatened to fall, and he crouched down in front of her.

"Lethallan…" he whispered, knowing there was no way of her hearing him. "I am so sorry… If only you knew what your future holds…" he mused, addressing the small girl as she cried. "One day, your words will determine the fate of nations." He reached a hand out to her, despite knowing the futility of the gesture. He moved to cup her small, rounded face as best he could, but his hand passed easily through the image the Fade had created. He let his hand drop sadly and resigned to crouching in front of her. "Your mother would be so proud."

"_They say he took you away,_" she finally spoke, her voice no louder than a whisper. "_They say that Fen'harel found you in the forest and tricked you, and then he took you away._" Solas' breath hitched in his throat with a hiss as he heard her speak these words, and his heart felt as if it were being ripped in two.

"I would never…" he gasped, the first tears falling down his cheeks.

"_Why would he do that, mamae? It's not fair!_" she sobbed. She toyed with a small charm made of ironbark, fumbling with it with her small hands. "_This is all I have left from you, mamae… why did he have to take you away?_"

Solas knew somewhere deep down that this was likely an explanation the Keeper created in an attempt to hide the brutal truth from the small child, but it still tore at his heart. For now he knew that Venethiel had a horrible memory of the Dread Wolf, and he doubted that she would ever forgive the entity she had always held responsible for the death of her mother. He could not bring himself to see any more of this memory and forced himself awake with a start, sitting upright on the stone as daylight now filtered in through the cave's entrance and sparkled on the damp stone. It nearly blinded him as his eyes adjusted and he squinted at the harsh light, and he rubbed at them with his hands to clear the sleep from them. As he slowly began to awaken, he felt relieved to know he was no longer in that sorrowful memory he left behind in the Fade.

This relief was short lived, however, when he sensed the presence of someone or something very close by. Suddenly, he felt wide awake as he jumped to his feet and grabbed his staff, ready to defend himself as fire crackled and hissed at the staff's tip. He slowly inched forward to see if he could catch a glimpse of this person before they snuck up on him, but his anxiety was cut short when he recognized the form of the human woman approaching him. Her black bangs hung partially in front of her face as her amber eyes searched the area; it seemed as if she were looking for him but had yet to actually see him. The burgundy cloth that hung loosely around her torso fluttered slightly and the feathers on her shoulder blew gently in the breeze. Those eyes searched for a time before landing on their mark, but she looked as surprised as he.

Morrigan stepped forward, closer to him, her mouth frowning in her confusion as she tilted her head to the side. "You… You are not Mythal…"


End file.
